


Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off

by SupernaturalFlavoredLollipop



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural Novels - Various
Genre: Dark Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Angst, Dean x Reader, F/M, Panic at the Disco - Freeform, Possessive Dean Winchester, Romance, dean winchester angry, dean winchester going to hell, dean winchester jealous, lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off, song request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 10:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3565877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalFlavoredLollipop/pseuds/SupernaturalFlavoredLollipop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Song Request<br/>Dean x Reader<br/>"Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off" by Pan!c at the Disco</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off

2008

 

The bar in Lawrence, Kansas, was crowded. It was a typical Friday night, and it was the only place in town to get some decent drinks and wings. You were there relaxing after work with a few of your coworkers. It had been a long week. Your caseload was ridiculous. It seemed like everyone in town were committing crimes and expecting you to clear their names, and you could barely keep up. So when Tammy had suggested you go grab a beer with them, you'd closed your files, shut down your computer, and gladly left the office for the night.

 

The only problem was, you had a nagging feeling in the back of your mind about the man sitting down the bar from you. You couldn't see his face. He wore a beat-to-shit old leather jacket, worn denim jeans, and some old boots, and had been knocking back shots of whiskey since you arrived. You had the feeling he was looking at you, but every time you glanced his direction, he was conveniently facing the other way. He seemed familiar though. Way too familiar. You knew that jacket from somewhere, back in the reaches of your mind.

 

Tammy and Marissa got up to go visit the ladies room, and you closed your eyes for a second, blocking out the view of the bar around you. You'd been stressed and you needed a breather. You knocked back your tequila shot, texted Tammy that you were going to go sit outside for a few, and made your way through the double doors to the patio. You'd only been out there for a minute when you heard the doors open again, and a familiar voice spoke behind you. A chill ran up your spine. “Hello, Y/N. Never thought I'd run into you again.”

 

Your eyes went wide and you spun around. You _knew_ you'd recognized him. It was Dean Winchester. And it had been a decade since you'd broken his heart.

 

* * *

_1998_

 

__**(**Then think of what you did  
And how I hope to God he was worth it.  
When the lights are dim and your heart is racing as your fingers touch his skin.**) **

 

_You froze as you peered out the peephole of your apartment door, as Dean began knocking again. “Shit.” You thought to yourself. You glanced back across the living room to your open bedroom doorway, and the man who lay sleeping in your bed. The very naked man who lay sleeping in your bed. What the hell were you going to do?_

 

“ _Open up, Y/N. I can hear you in there! What's going on?” Dean's voice carried through the door. You took a deep breath, wrapped your robe tightly around yourself, and opened the door. Instead of letting him in, you stepped into the hallway of your apartment building. Dean raised his eyebrows, but smiled nonetheless and leaned in for a kiss. You turned slightly to the side, letting it land on your cheek. He drew back, giving you a suspicious look. “I thought you'd be happier than that to see me.”_

 

“ _You've been gone a month, Dean. I didn't know where you were.”_

 

“ _You know what I do. I've been out with Dad. Hunting.”_

 

“ _I didn't hear from you.”_

 

“ _I know. Things got dicey. I couldn't let anything get traced back to you.” He gave you a strange look. “Can we go inside and talk about this?”_

 

“ _No. Not right now. It's not a good time.” You shook your head. “I can meet you later-”_

 

_Suddenly the door to your apartment opened, and Chad stepped out. “Babe, whats up? Is everything okay?” He was wearing only boxer shorts. You cringed. This was not good. Very not good. You turned to Dean, but the hardened look on his face told you everything you needed to know. “Who's this guy?” Chad asked._

 

“ _I'm nobody.” Dean stated bluntly, backing up. “She's all yours, man. Have fun.” And with that, he had walked out of your life._

 

_* * *_

2008

 

** (** _Let's get these teen hearts beating. Faster, faster_ _  
_ _So testosterone boys and harlequin girls,_ _  
_ ** _Will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close?**)_

 

You were now seated in the passenger seat of Dean's Impala. The car was so familiar, memories came flooding back. How many times had you and Dean clumsily groped each other as eighteen year olds in this car, in the few months you'd been sort-of dating? Long nights spent sleeping in the backseat, holding each other close, when he'd been back in town from hunts? You were overwhelmed by memories you'd tried your hardest to forget.

 

You'd left your friends at the bar, and gone with him, for some reason. You were both sitting at an abandoned rest stop a few miles outside of town. You smoothed your suit down over your lap and looked at him.

 

“What brings you back here?”

 

He turned and looked at you, a serious expression on his face. “I'm going to hell, Y/N.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I'm going to hell. I sold my soul to save my brother. I have a few months left, and I'm tying up loose ends.” He slid his hands along the steering wheel. “You're a loose end.”

 

“Dean, it's been a decade.”

 

“Was he worth it?”

 

“ _Chad?_ ” You asked incredulously. Dean nodded. You shake your head. “Chad was barely a blip on my radar.” You sigh. “I was lonely, Dean. I was a scared eighteen year old who's sort-of boyfriend kept leaving to go kill monsters with his dad, for months at a time. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

 

“I don't know. Maybe _not fuck a guy named Chad_?” Dean sounded angry, but quickly reigned it in. He turned to you, his eyes bright and intense. “Do you still think about me?”

 

You paused. You did, more than you'd like to admit. But did you want him to know that? You nodded slowly.

 

“When you're in bed, all alone? Or even when you're with someone?” He'd scooted closer to you on the bench seat. You could smell the faint hint of cologne and whiskey, and leather. You drank it in like it was the last time you'd ever smell his scent, because let's face it, it was. He wasn't the kind of guy who stuck around anywhere for very long. And if he said he had a one-way ticket to hell, he probably did.

 

“Why does this matter to you?” You whispered in his ear. “It's been ten years. We were practically kids. I'd just started college.”

 

“Because it does. It just does. You just do.” He replied shortly. He smiled that smile of his, the one you remember clearly, the one that still occasionally haunted your dreams. “You know I was the best you ever had. The funniest. The best kiss. The best fuck.” He was so damned self assured, it would have been annoying if it hadn't all been _so damned true._

 

_**(**So I guess we're back to us, oh cameraman swing the focus, In case I lost my train of thought, where was it that we last left off?**)** _

 

“Dean, you're still the best I've had.” He'd moved very close to you now, was leaning into your personal space. You found yourself still drawn to him, after all these years. “If you're going to make a move on me, you'd better do it. I can't imagine you brought me out here just to chat.” You looked up into his green eyes. He smiled, let out a low chuckle, and brought his lips to yours, his hands moving up and slowly untucking your blouse, his body pressed against you. If he had an express ticket to hell, you sure as hell were going to pick up a few pieces of his soul, and hold him close, before he left.

 

_**(**Exchanging body heat in the passenger seat. No no no, you know it will always just be me.**)** _

 

 


End file.
